On July 4th, 1905, Abbot Kinney opened Venice of America on a drained coastal marshland fourteen miles west of Los Angeles. He dug seven canals, imported gondoliers from Italy, raised colonnades along the shore, and invited anyone who wanted to live differently. Dogs arrived with the first residents. They have not left.

By 1910, Kinney's pier stretched into the Pacific. The boardwalk ran with games, freak shows, roller coasters and a miniature steam train that circled the park. Dogs ran it all with them. When the canals were paved over in 1929 to make room for automobiles, the dogs moved to the streets. They have always adapted faster than the city.

In the summer of 1936, the Venice Beach Pet Show drew crowds along the boardwalk — an annual spectacle documented in photographs that still exist. Dogs competed. Dogs won. Dogs were carried home on shoulders.

By the 1950s, the piers had rotted and the rides had closed. Venice fell into what the city called decline. The dogs noticed no difference. The beach remained. The weather remained. The Z-Boys arrived in the early 1970s — a group of surfers and skateboarders from the rougher end of the boardwalk who would change the culture of the entire sport. They called the neighbourhood Dogtown. Nobody has ever explained why. Nobody has needed to.

The dog has always known what the rest of Los Angeles takes decades to figure out. Venice is the best place to be.